


Wild Horses

by sayoko



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Demons, Final Haikyuu Quest, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-04 01:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayoko/pseuds/sayoko
Summary: Kozume Kenma had left Nekoma with a single goal in mind: to rescue his childhood friend from the demon that had taken over him.It would not be easy, but the white mage was certain that he would succeed. He had new friends at his side. They would help him, and he would help them defeat Oikawa Tooru, the Demon King, in return.But then Kuroo appears, and things take a turn he was not prepared for.For Kuroken Week 2017!  Day 2 |  Fantasy (AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... hey! heh, i know there must be plenty of works about the Final Haikyuu Quest game already but i arrived late to this fandom so ʅ（´◔౪◔）ʃ i decided to write something about it anyway~  
> So yeah, this story is inspired by the short novels, which you can read [ here!](http://silveryogi.tumblr.com/post/98149276073). This story would start after part 3, but if you don't wanna read that, here's some context to the beginning:  
> Basically, Kuroo (Oikawa's servant) fights the hero's team (Hinata and friends), but he leaves before killing them, even tho he could have done it without problem (like the typical, frustrating, in-between-game boss fight :)) ). So, yeah! Kuroo retreats after doing a lot of damage, but he also leaves healing potions behind for them. The characters start discussing if Kuroo is completely under Oikawa's orders or not. Hajime and Kageyama think he is.
> 
> Oh btw, no real horses are mentioned in this story. I just really really like this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I0hXe0cMUM).

It was dark and his teammates were already asleep, some even snoring, but Kenma was still unable to copy them.

The memories of their encounter that day kept repeating in his head; images of his team defeated on the ground, the sound of Kuroo’s laughter as he left before striking the final blow.

 _“Anyway, he didn’t kill us, so maybe your friend wasn’t brainwashed by the grand king yet!”_ Hinata had said.

 _“It’s completely the opposite,”_ Iwaizumi had answered.

According to Iwaizumi and Kageyama, the only reason Kuroo had not finished them right there was because Oikawa had ordered so, because Oikawa wanted to keep that pleasure to himself.

He didn’t want to believe it, but both of them had been close to the King once, so it wasn’t like he could turn a deaf ear on their opinions… Specially Iwaizumi’s.

It was beyond infuriating. The one who had attacked them that day was not the Kuroo he knew, it was not his friend. The one who had attacked them had been a possessed man, completely brainwashed and denied of choice.

Kenma bit his lips at the thought of Kuroo, his Kuro, being used like a puppet by the Grand King.

He hated it, he hated him. He hated Oikawa so much he couldn’t wait to finally get to his castle and take his friend back from him.

But, as the fight that day had proven, the whole team had still a long way to go before being able to face the Grand King.

Carefully, he walked across the sleeping men and sat down just some feet away. He cast a light, soft yet bright enough to be able to see without disturbing the others, pulled a scroll from under his robe, and continued his studies.

 

 

He was not exactly happy to see Kuroo bleeding, but he was proud to see that their team had improved so much that they were able to cast damage too now.

“Oh? So you want to play rough, huh?” Kuroo asked as he swiped the blood off his face with a sleeve.

They were good. Their team could still lack in some points, but together, they were strong. And not just because of the enhancing spells Kenma had recently learnt, but also because of their cohesion and team work.

Separate, they were not as strong as the demon controlling Kuroo, but together, they were certainly able to take him down.

And so they were doing.

Aone and Iwaizumi guarded that no lesser demon tried to interrupt while Shouyou, Kageyama and Kenma fought Kuroo face to face. Kenma was in the back, making sure to counteract any spell that Kuroo cast against his friends. Shouyou went full on with his sword, confident that Kenma was shielding his back, and confident that Kageyama was also at his side, shooting at the right moment, in perfect synchrony with Shouyou’s chaotic rhythm.

Kenma flinched when an arrow finally managed to go through Kuroo’s magical coat and dug right into his left shoulder. Kuroo tried to pull it off, but let it go immediately when he felt the arrow burning his hand.

Kuroo stared at Kenma in accusation.

“You –!”

Kenma shut his eyes tightly as the rest of the enchanted arrows he had given Kageyama were shot. _Two… Three… Four… Five,_ he counted, guided by the clean sound of the arrows cutting the air.

When he opened his eyes again, Kuroo was on his hands and knees on the ground, five white arrows contrasting with the black of the back of his coat.

That had to hurt a lot, but it was the most practical way Kenma found to paralyze Kuroo for enough time for him to cast the demon away.

“Kenma!!” Shouyou waved happily, signalling him to come closer.

And so Kenma did. He stood in front of a confused, upset Kuroo, and raised his staff in the air.

“What are you doing?”

Kenma ignored him and continued chanting the words that would exorcise the demon. He could hear him telling him to stop, but he just closed his eyes and continued the spell.

When he was done, he opened his eyes slowly.

“…What?”

Nothing had changed. The white horns on Kuroo’s head, they were still there.

“T-try again Kenma!!!” Shouyou shouted.

“Don't yell, idiot!!” Kageyama shouted too. "You're going to distract him!!!"

Kenma kept quiet. Trying again could not be the solution because the spell failing could not be the problem. It could not have failed.

He knew that incantation from memory. He had been reading it over and over since Kuroo disappeared from Nekoma over a year ago, since his elders told him the demon King had taken him away.

“Why did it fail?” he asked softly to the air, completely detached from his friends yelling.

“Because that’s the wrong spell,” Kuroo answered in a voice as low as his, expression hidden as he looked to the ground.

Kenma stared at him in disbelief.

“…Do you understand what that means?” Kuroo continued.

Kenma couldn’t find the words to speak.

If that spell had failed, it could not be because he had mistaken the words.

If the spell had failed, it could only be because it was not the right one for the situation.

But... If there was no exorcism to be held, that would mean that Kuroo was not possessed by any devil.

 

“It means you are a fool,” Kuroo finished as he looked up to meet his eyes, a cruel mocking grin in his face.

 

If Kuroo was not possessed by any demon, but continued to show the characteristics and powers of one… it could only mean he was a demon himself.

The mage's arms went numb and he let his staff fall to the ground. His legs felt weak too, as if the revelation had been a real physical blow at him. The reason of his quest, his childhood friend, was not what he had always thought him to be.

Kenma felt himself trip and for a second he thought his legs had given up. But it was not that. Someone had grabbed him. Long arms in a black coat had grabbed him by his torso with such speed that no one was able to stop him. Still in complete shock, Kenma was only able to watch as Kuroo dragged him away from his friends.

“Haha!” he could hear Kuroo laugh beside him, “Since you kids were so insolent today, I’m taking a little gift with me!”

Somewhere deep inside Kenma could understand that Kuroo was, once again, escaping from his team and taking him along; but he couldn’t find any strength to fight back. Silently, he watched as the ground got further and further away from his feet. Shouyou kept shouting at them, though he could not make any of his words. Finally, a cloud of ashes and sulphur surrounded them, so dense that he had to close his eyes for them not to sting.

By the time he opened them again, they were not at the forest anymore. There was no need to ask where Kuroo had transported them, though. Even in his state, Kenma could sense the overflowing demonic energy of the Grand King’s palace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life has been horribly busy and at times just plain horrible but i really really want to finish this, so here  
> :c please forgive the lack of proper editing. i'm just.. so, so tired..
> 
> next and final chapter is going to be short, like the first one
> 
> that's all, i think
> 
> bye

A hand on his shoulder and a voice right next to his ear managed to bring Kenma back to reality.

“If you want to remain in one piece, don’t say anything and stick close to me,” Kuroo whispered to him.

 Before Kenma could say anything back, two servants of the Grand King came to their encounter.

To Kenma’s relief, their attention went from him to the arrows still stuck on Kuroo’s back very quickly. The two loud devils first laughed and then tried to pull them out, only to end up getting their hands burnt. It was no use; only he, or another white mage, would be able to get them out without trouble. Yet he said nothing. He kept his lips pursed as Kuroo groaned in pain and frustration at the rough devils.

Then another demon entered the room, a beautiful woman with a stare as cold as ice.

“Do you need help?” she asked, though nothing in her voice indicated real disposition.

Kuroo smirked.

“No need.”

To Kenma’s surprise, Kuroo took a deep breath and, without breaking eye contact with the new demon, he broke the shafts of the arrows so they wouldn’t stick up anymore.

There was a sizzling sound from Kuroo’s leather gloves, and the distinct smell of magic burning through glove and flesh.

Kuroo managed not to show a single sign of distress, even though the enchanted arrowheads were still stuck in his flesh and the palms of his hands were angry, blistering red.

Kenma didn’t know what kind of competition Kuroo had with this woman, but the fact that he had one in the first place was enough to make him wary.

“This is nothing,” Kuroo said to the new demon. “I’ll deal with it later. Now I have to see Oikawa.”

 

It was frustrating, but staying quiet and close to Kuroo was indeed the best course of action at that moment. Without his staff, Kenma was unable to perform any powerful spell. Trying to run away without being able to fight was not exactly tempting. If he was going to escape, he would have to wait for the right time.

The other demons went ahead and Kenma was pushed to move forward, which he grudgingly did.

When the doors to the King’s throne room opened, Kenma kept his face towards the floor and his hands in fists at the sides.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Isn’t this one of Iwa-chan’s new friends?”

The Grand King’s voice was melodious, almost friendly, but Kenma knew what kind of monster lurked behind it.

“He is,” Kuroo answered proudly. “He’s his mage.”

“Oh my! And what use could I have for this little white mage?”

Kenma tightened his fists. He was not going to look up. For what he had heard of Oikawa so far, he was the kind of person that would only rejoice in his anger; he was not going to give him that satisfaction.

“Oh, it’s not what you can do with him, but what he can do for you,” Kuroo explained. “I know you have been sad lately because that knight’s team has been too slow to reach the castle. So well!” he said and put his hands on Kenma’s shoulders so heavily that he almost lost balance, “I decided to bring this one here to give them some more motivation.”

Kenma tensed under Kuroo’s grip. Oikawa whistled.

“Are you saying that if we keep this boy here, Iwa-chan will come to me sooner?”

“Mm-hmm! I’m certain.”

Kenma wasn’t sure what he disliked more, the way Oikawa’s tone made it seem like everything was a game, or how _close_ the two demons sounded.

It made him feel even more of an idiot, to have never suspected of Kuroo.

But it was not time to think of that, now he had to pay attention to the demon’s talk. He hoped Kuroo’s plan wouldn’t work. He would never forgive himself if his friends got in trouble because he had been too stupid, too blind to see…

_That it was all lie._

He tried to silence his thoughts again as the other two exchanged some more words, and as Oikawa dismissed them for Kuroo to guide him to the dungeons.

 

“So we are being silent, huh?” Kuroo asked, catching him out of the corner of his eye, just a few steps in front, guiding him through long stone corridors. “Are you that scared?”

He wasn’t. He had been, a bit, before meeting Oikawa; but he wasn’t anymore.

Still, he said nothing.

“You don’t have to be so scared,” Kuroo continued, “we’re not really going to do anything to you. It’s not you who Oikawa wants.”

Kenma grimaced, though from that angle Kuroo wouldn’t be able to tell.

“If you have something to say, now’s the time,” Kuroo continued, turning his head to give Kenma a lopsided grin. “No one visits the dungeons unless it’s time to feed the prisoners. _If_ they remember to feed them, that is.”

Kenma glanced away. He was trying really hard to focus on the road, the number of turns they had taken, the number of steps, anything, anything but the careless voice of the one who had betrayed him so deeply.

“You really won’t say anything?” he tried one last time. “Oh well... Not my problem.”

 

When they finally arrived to the dungeons and Kuroo left, Kenma felt as if he was able to breathe again. But the relief lasted only a second. In the loneliness of his cell, his thoughts were too loud to keep ignoring. All the words he had said to himself as encouragement to keep on going, all of his friends’ support towards his quest, all of his memories, all of his memories of Kuroo…

_“What are you going to do once you become a full-fledged mage?”_ Kuroo had asked him once when he still lived somewhere in the forest near Nekoma, when he still joined him every afternoon after classes in the meadow that separated both territories.

_“I don’t know…”_ Kenma had answered then, eyes fixed on the clouds above them as they lay on the grass.

_“Are you gonna leave?”_

Kenma had hummed. It was what most mages did; leave town to wander the world in search of knowledge, riches, or merely for the sake of adventure. However, Kenma had no intentions to leave. He knew it was the next logical step, but still…

_“If you ever decide to leave, I’m going with you,”_ Kuroo had said.

At this, Kenma had looked at the boy lying at his side; he continued to look at the clouds, but there was a serious look in his eyes.

_“Really?”_

_“Of course, you’re my best friend,”_ he had said as if it was the most obvious thing. _“If you leave, there’s nothing for me here.”_

In that moment, Kenma’s chest overfilled with excitement. He wondered if that was the sign he was waiting for, if he should tell him that he felt the same way about him, just maybe a little different… but then Kuroo ruined the chance.

_“Besides,”_ he had said with that annoying smirk of his back on _, “it’s not like you’ll last much on your own anyway, right?”_

At that, Kenma glared at him and Kuroo laughed, aware that his anger towards him was always as short-lived as a sigh.

The moment had been ruined, but it was no tragedy. Life was already perfect as it was, meeting each afternoon, lying on the tall grass during Spring, exploring the forest during Summer, preparing for the upcoming cold in Fall, and hiding in Kenma’s home during Winter.

Life was perfect.

Or rather, it had been, until the day Kuroo decided to trample over everything and join the Demon King.

Kenma covered his ears as he sank to his knees, trying to mute the now painful memories his brain insisted on reminding him of.

There was no sunshine there. There was no light and no tall grass and no fragrant breeze, just cold, hard rock, pressing painfully against his knees.

 

Kenma curled down and braced himself.

He could not remember ever feeling so alone and miserable in his entire life.

 

 

 

The first thing Kuroo did after returning to the solitude of his room was to scream his lungs out. The white mage’s little trick hurt like hell and he wanted the pain gone, immediately.

He had the castle’s healer come to his room – only for him to claim that he could not do anything against that kind of white magic, and that the only solution he could offer him was potions to help ease the pain.

Kuroo shot him a stare so murderous that the healer took a few step backs.

“Or you could…” the healer paused to swallow, knowing that his next words could not be taken well, “you could ask the one who put the spell on the arrows to break it.”

Kuroo wondered if the healer knew already that the culprit of it all was in the dungeons of the castle. He probably knew. News spread fast. Now he was even more ashamed of having fallen for that team’s trap. He hoped Oikawa would let him deal with the shrimp and the weird archer once they got to the castle.

But that would be later. Now, he had five other problems to deal with.

He didn’t want to go see Kenma to ask him to break the spell. He was the enemy. Of course he would deny the request! He would and then everyone at the castle would laugh at how that tiny mage was able to cause him so much trouble.

Besides, the mage made him uneasy.

Kuroo was certain that he had never met Kozume Kenma before. Maybe they had crossed paths once during a fight in the past, before Oikawa sent him for Iwaizumi and his team of “heroes”. Or maybe Kuroo had destroyed his hometown, or maybe it had been Oikawa and Kuroo had happened to be there. Those were common occurrences; they could have met that way, it wouldn’t be so strange. Still, the mage didn’t act like someone looking for a rematch or revenge. He acted like he knew Kuroo from long ago, like they had been friends once, like it was his duty to “save” him.

But that was stupid. Kuroo had been born a demon and that was something no magic could ever change. The fact that the mage was not aware of this and believed him a possessed human was enough proof that he didn’t know him. Maybe he had just confused him with someone else. That made a lot more sense than Kuroo somehow leading a double life sometime in his past, for long enough that the mage would think they were friends, yet for so little that he completely forgot about it once he met Oikawa.

He didn’t really have many memories of his childhood. Most of them started when he joined Oikawa’s side. He thought it was only natural. Or well, Oikawa had explained him it was only natural. Kuroo had always been alone in the human world and humans were not kind to demons. He had been abandoned in a land of enemies and he had somehow managed to survive that.

If he had forgotten about his childhood it was probably for a reason, and it was better to keep it that way.

Kuroo spent the rest of the day trying to find someone to free him from his misery, to no avail. Many tried, but their attempts only managed to hurt Kuroo’s back even more. They had carved into his flesh so much that now Kuroo was afraid to look at himself in the mirror, lest he discovered his entire back was an open, bleeding wound.

He swallowed down an entire bottle of his most potent potions, and with a sigh, he decided to finally pay a visit to the dungeons.

 

He found Kenma sleeping, curled into a ball in one of the corners of his cell. A tray of meager food lay close to the cell bars, completely untouched.

He stared at him. In the silence of the underground level and the flickering light of the torches on the walls, it almost looked as if Kenma was dead instead of sleeping. It was only when he gave a long, sleepy sigh that Kuroo realized he was holding his breath.

As expected, the proximity to the mage made him unexplainably uneasy. Maybe it was just pity, pity that he had gone to such lengths for the wrong person. “ _You’re too soft with the enemy sometimes_ ,” Oikawa had warned him once.

Anyway, he was there for an important reason, so he clacked on the metal bars to wake Kenma up.

He did so softly, and Kuroo allowed him a moment to straighten up and clear his eyes.

“Kuro?” asked Kenma, with his usual unreasonable familiarity.

“Why the hell do you keep pronouncing it wrong?” Kuroo said, clutching the bars in newfound anger. Why did the mage insist on that? He was not the person he was looking for. His current situation was enough proof that he was totally _not_ the person he was looking for. “It’s Kuro _o_ , not Kuro. Get it right already.”

Kenma slouched and his face disappeared from sight under the shadow of his white hood.

Kuroo sighed.

“I need you to remove the spell on the arrows. It’s not fun anymore. I want them out.”

The mage shifted a bit on his spot at the end of the cell, but didn’t respond.

“Hey, this is not a question, it’s an order.”

The mage lifted his head a bit and said something in a voice too low for him to hear.

“What did you say? Speak louder.”

“I said I’m not helping you,” Kenma said, definitely louder.

Kuroo grasped the bars tighter.

“Listen here you little-”, he took a deep breath, “I’m not asking for a favor. It’s an order. If you refuse, I’ll have to resort to some persuasion techniques which will be far more painful than this little curse of yours.”

Kuroo smirked, hoping that the threat was enough to get the mage to be reasonable. He wasn’t really going to torture him. It was not his style. Anyway, Kenma didn’t know this, so he expected him to be real scared.

But Kenma only stared at him for a moment, and then he looked away.

“Do whatever you want. I don’t care,” he said.

The metal under Kuroo’s grasp became red with the heat of his demonic magic.

“Oh really?” he asked, letting go of the bars and trying hard to remain cool. “You know, I’m not joking. This is your last chance to change your mind.”

He expected Kenma to be scared, or angry, even; but when he looked back up at Kuroo and the light of the flames allowed him a full view of his face for a second, he found that the mage had the saddest eyes he had ever seen in anyone.

“I don’t think you can disappoint me any more than you already have,” came his answer, carrying a sadness that was proof of the image he had seen, but also an accusation so strong it echoed in the darkness.

Kuroo didn’t know what to respond. He knew he didn’t know the person behind the bars, but even so, he felt the full weight of his accusation on his shoulders.

And its disappointment. How deep could that disappointment be that the mage didn’t fear for his own wellbeing anymore?

But he had to shake those thoughts away, because he didn’t know Kenma, and no matter what the other claimed, he was _not_ the person he was looking for.

“Look…” he finally managed to say, “I don’t know who you think I am, but that can’t be me. I don’t know you. I had never even seen you before that time we fought at Dateko. I–”. He hesitated, then decided it didn’t matter.

The mage was not going to help him and he had no interest in torturing him. He only wanted to forget about him and continue his life normally. Now that he was in a cell, Kuroo would be able to do so even if he was ordered to fight Iwaizumi’s team again.

Kuroo turned on his heel to leave the dungeon for good. He only got a couple of steps away when a voice stopped him.

“Do you really not remember me?”

The voice sounded closer. Reluctantly, Kuroo turned back. The mage was now standing behind the bars. His hood had fallen back so he could see his face much better now. His eyes shone golden and, he thought, hopeful.

Kuroo sighed. “What does it matter?”

Kenma grasped the bars tightly, as he wanted to object, but he just continued to stare at Kuroo with wide, hopeful eyes.

Kuroo frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor. He was about to leave again when Kenma suddenly spoke.

“I’ll help you.”

“Huh?” Kuroo looked back incredulous, “Was- was that a change of heart I just heard?”

The mage just pursed his lips, a new determination burning behind his golden eyes.

It was unsettling. Kuroo had no idea what he pretended now except that it couldn’t be good, but he really wanted the arrowheads out.

He took a long deep breath before going back to Kenma’s side and opening the lock of his cell to let him out. He’d rather die than being assisted in that cold, damp cell and creating even more gossip about his state.

“If you try anything weird, I’ll kill you,” Kuroo said. “Don’t think I won’t.”

 

The walk to Kuroo’s bedchamber was uncomfortably silent.

Once there, though, the mage got to work right ahead.

Kenma was quick to tell him what things he would need; clean pieces of cloth, a mix of herbs, a bowl with warm water, and a thin knife. Kuroo quirked a brow at the mention of the last item.

“Don’t be stupid. I won’t attack you,” Kenma irreverently explained, “I can’t remove the spell without my staff, but I can still touch the arrows without being affected, so I guess I’ll just have to pluck them out as they are.”

Kuroo remembered the lengthy, painful, previous attempts he had been victim of earlier that day and couldn’t help wincing a bit.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise,” Kenma said, as if he could read his thoughts.

Still not completely convinced but knowing there was no faster alternative to end the pain, Kuroo provided Kenma his requested items and waited awkwardly for further instructions.

“Undress.”

He was expecting any instruction, except from that one.

“Oh-ho? I imagined you could have second intentions coming here but I didn’t think it would be _those_ kinds of intentions.”

The joking was completely out of place and he was painfully aware of it. He knew Kenma just needed to see his back but even so, he felt so horribly nervous alone with the quiet mage that he just couldn’t help it.

“Your back,” Kenma answered irritated, but with a slight blush on his cheeks that Kuroo counted as a victory, since now at least they were _both_ uncomfortable.

He sat on the bed, got rid of all his upper clothes, and tried to pretend it wasn’t worrying to give his naked back to the one responsible of hurting it not that long ago.

He also pretended that this was the only reason he was so nervous, and not something illogical, shapeless, as clear as the sea under a storm.

Kenma gasped softly and got frighteningly quiet behind him.

“…What happened?” the mage asked.

Kuroo supposed his wounds had to look worse than he imagined.

“Lousy healers,” Kuroo pretended to shrug off.

He heard Kenma hum, and next thing he knew, warm fingertips were ghosting over his bare skin.

“This had to hurt…”

Kenma’s touch was light, barely a caress. Still, it left its skin tingling where it trailed.

Kuroo swallowed.

“If you know that then just get done with it already,” he managed to say as scornfully as he could.

 

The process was quick, just as Kenma had promised. At first Kuroo was impressed, but then he figured it had to be natural, considering Kenma’s hands didn’t start blistering at mere touch.

Once Kenma was done with the removal, Kuroo realized that the rest of the items were to clean his wounds.

“You don’t have to do that,” he tried to stop him.

“It’s necessary,” Kenma responded as he soaked a rag in warm water.

Even though Kenma’s careful actions were almost painless, Kuroo was still tense, as if he was still holding a tiny knife instead of a soft, wet, rag.

There really was no need for the tending. He was a demon. He could just take more potions and let his body do the rest of the healing. Some potions and a night of rest would be more than enough to become a functional soldier again.

And Kenma knew this. As a mage, Kenma had to know what potions and demons were capable of. He had to know that, and still, he had chosen to do it.

“Why?”

Kuroo widened his eyes in sudden surprise as he realized the words that broke the silence were his, fugitives of his own traitorous mouth. But they had not been so loud, maybe Kenma hadn’t heard. Maybe there was still a chance he hadn’t actually made everything even more awkward.

But then Kenma stopped and hummed questioningly, signaling that he had indeed heard.

Kuroo sighed and let his shoulders sag, defeated.

“Why are you doing this?” he reformulated. “Do you think this will gain you my favor or something?”

Kenma waited a moment before answering and even though he couldn’t see him, Kuroo was sure he could picture him, lowering his gaze, looking to the side, trying hard to get himself to speak.

“I never meant to hurt you like this,” Kenma finally said.

Kuroo scoffed. “Really? So what were you doing? Playing? Are arrows a toy now?”

“I really mean it,” Kenma answered in a louder tone that surprised Kuroo a bit. “This was not supposed to happen…”

Kuroo fell silent as he felt Kenma’s feather-light touch on his back again.

“We have a healer,” Kenma continued speaking, “he’s very good. He was supposed to deal with your wounds immediately after we brought you back.”

Then Kenma paused again, and when he continued it was again with that disappointed sadness.

“But I guess that’s just not possible now, is it?”

Kuroo frowned.

Kenma was right. There was no way an exorcism could work on him. There was no humanity in him to bring back, just a demon, who -ironically enough- felt way too guilty for a crime he never committed.

He let Kenma continue his task in silence while he tried to push away his illogical guilt from his brain. It was only when Kenma leaned forward and put his forehead between his shoulders that he came back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” the mage said against his bare skin.

Kuroo felt his heart race just as if he were in danger in the middle of a battlefield; only that there was no battle there, and no weapons, and no one else but him and a fairly harmless mage.

And he was resting his forehead against him, and he was asking him for forgiveness.

Kuroo knew he was supposed to say something, but he really just couldn’t think of what, even when the seconds dragged and dragged on and Kenma kept resting his contrite head against him.

_Actually, I could just move away_ , Kuroo realized at some point.

As simple as that. Kuroo could just move away from the mage and order him to return to the dungeons.  He could get rid of him forever without saying a single word of farewell. He could do that. He could, if he wasn’t frozen in place.

Kuroo started to wonder if the mage really was defenseless without his staff or if he was still capable of magic and was sneakily using it against him somehow.

“Kuro…” Kenma continued, interrupting his thoughts. “Why did you leave?”

Even though Kuroo didn’t really want to face Kenma, his voice made him turn around as if by reflex. Luckily (or not – he wasn’t sure of anything anymore), he couldn’t actually see Kenma’s face, as he quickly moved back and turned away.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he muttered.

Of course he didn’t. Kuroo was in absolutely no obligation of anything regarding Kenma. But even so, Kuroo found himself unable to speak if it wasn’t to give Kenma the answer he needed.

But what answer was that?

He knew there was a real answer for that question, a real motive for his decision, regardless of Kenma’s presence in his past or not. He knew that, but he just couldn’t remember. The day he joined Oikawa was but a fuzzy memory.

Kuroo looked away, as if the answer was written somewhere on the floor of his bedchamber. While he kept looking for words he would never find, he felt Kenma adjusting closer to his side.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kenma repeated, “I just want to understand.”

Kuroo gave the mage a quick side glance and noticed he was also staring at the floor, also desperate for lost words and some peace of mind.

“What is it that you need to understand?” Kuroo said, somehow managing to sound collected and cold, “I’m a demon, I serve the demon King. It’s only logical for demons to serve their King.”

He was going to continue, but the way Kenma’s small hands clutched his white robe told him that was enough. He had gotten the point. He was hurting already. It was enough.

“I get that…” Kenma said. “I just want to know… Why did you have to leave like that?”

He paused for a bit and when he turned to Kuroo with his wide, expectant eyes, Kuroo wished he was still looking at the floor.

“Why did you never tell me? Why lie to me? We were friends… Or was that a lie too?”

At that point, he really suspected the mage had put some kind of charm on him, because there was no other explanation as to why he froze when Kenma looked at him with those eyes.

Still, he was a demon, and not an ordinary one. He was Oikawa’s right hand. He had to keep the little dignity he still had left after the enchanted arrows incident and stand strong against the mage, who was not only just a human, but also a disarmed one.

“I can’t remember ever being friends with you,” Kuroo said. “You must be confused. Demons and humans can’t be friends. I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

The mage let out a resigned huff and dropped his gaze to the floor again. This time, however, he didn’t seem to be looking for words anymore, but to be deeply calculating something. Kuroo didn’t like it, he didn’t like the fast yet irrational way the mage’s brain worked.

It was time to make him return to his cell.

“We were friends,” Kenma said before Kuroo had a chance to end the uncomfortable conversation.

“We couldn’t have–”

“You said so,” Kenma interrupted, “you said so many times. And I knew it was true… It felt true.”

Kuroo took a deep breath. Maybe he was being too patient and what Kenma needed was just the cold truth shoved to his face.

“If you really knew me before, how could you have never noticed what I truly was?” he shot.

And Kenma, again against Kuroo’s expectations, instead of acting confused, sad, or scared, slightly turned to him and gave him a glare as sharp as his question.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he answered, upset and challenging.

Kuroo gaped. “What the hell do you mean by that?! If you really knew me then you should have known!”

“You hid it from me! I already told you! You hid it from me and just left with Oikawa one day! Can’t you really remember anything from that?! What did he do to you?!”

It was the loudest he had ever heard Kenma speak, and it left him speechless.

The mage’s face was flushed with anger and he looked just one step from grabbing Kuroo by the shoulders and shaking him; and he probably would have, if yelling hadn’t taken so much energy from him.

Kuroo stared at him for a second.

Why couldn’t he remember that day, actually?

“Out,” Kuroo heard himself say with eerie calm. “Get out of here, right now.”

The mage seemed more than ready to object again so, careful not to fall in his trap again and avoiding his gaze, Kuroo grabbed him by an arm and forcefully dragged him out.

“Kuro! Wait!” the mage pleaded, but Kuroo pretended not to hear.

“Guards!” he shouted once outside. Soon, an alarmed guard came running to them. “Take this kid back to his cell. Now.”

He shoved the mage into the guard’s arms before he could even respond and went back to his room without a single glance back.

It had to be some kind of spell. The mage had to have put some spell on him, because even after him gone, Kuroo could not stop thinking of the mage’s words.

_“What did he do to you?!”_

He could still hear the resentment in them, even though there was nothing Oikawa could have done, nor a need to have done something to him in the first place.

He tried going to sleep but, despite the late hour, he couldn’t fall asleep. He kept tossing and turning, with the horrible feeling that something was wrong, though he couldn’t pin point what.

It had to be the mage. It had to be his treacherous magic, its ashes still burning in his system.

He decided to take a bath to help clear his mind. It served its purpose, for a while. Once he was out and drying himself, Kuroo caught sight of his reflection in his standing mirror.

His white horns stood out clearly against his black hair. How could Kenma have never noticed those?

Kuroo placed his palms on the mirror, right over the white horns, and stared at his reflection for a while.

They were, truly, the only way to tell he was different. At first sight at least.

He wondered if there was a way to hide them, if there was a way someone could live their entire lives without the rest knowing their true nature.

But it was no use thinking of that. Demons had no need to hide what they were. They had not been brought into the world to hide. Just as Oikawa said, they were born to rule, and so were they proving.

Daylight was just some hours away by the time he went to bed. Sleep overcame him quickly this time.

 

_“What happened to you?”_

_Kuroo turned his face away, but it was pointless. Kenma had already seen the bruise and scratches on one of his cheeks._

_“I had a fight again…”_

_Kenma got closer and inspected his face._

_“You should go to Nekomata,” he said._

_Kuroo sighed. “Already did. He said he wouldn’t help me anymore.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because he says I need to learn how to get along with others…” Kuroo said, deflated._

_“That’s not fair. It’s not your fault if the forest creatures are bullies.”_

_Kuroo hummed in agreement, but deep down he knew that was not entirely true. The reason the forest creatures were always so unfriendly with him was because they could see, they could see him for what he truly was; but that was not something he could tell Kenma._

_If the forest creatures were so displeased with his presence there, living deep inside the forest alongside old hermit Nekomata, it was only reasonable to assume Kenma’s reaction would be the same. The only reason he was allowed at his side was because he couldn’t see past Nekomata’s disguising spell. The only reason he was allowed to be his friend was that no one in Nekoma knew the truth about him._

_“Let’s go home, I’ll help you,” Kenma decided._

_Kenma’s room smelled of herbs. He was a mage in training; therefore, it was not strange for his room to smell of herbs, incense, strange powders, or sometimes plain smoke - out of failed spells or unattended candles._

_Kuroo liked it. He had come to learn which smell belonged to what preparation, and so he quickly recognized the sweet yet grassy smell of Kenma’s healing ointment._

_He watched him carefully turn the ingredients into a paste. Nekomata never did that. The spells he used rarely needed other preparation than his words._

_“How come you don’t know any healing spells by now?” he asked._

_“Huh?” Kenma arched a brow. “What is that? A complaint?”_

_“Ah, no! No… It’s just…” He looked around, dozens of books stacked in rustic shelves. “You already know so much other stuff; I thought they would teach you some healing as well.”_

_Kenma’s lips pursed into a funny grimace, and Kuroo knew he was about to reveal something._

_“…I actually know a couple of them, but I don’t like people knowing I do, so I don’t plan on using them or learning more… ”_

_“Why not? You’d be a good healer. You’re pretty skilled with magic. Besides, aren’t healers very popular?”_

_Kenma grimaced even more._

_“Ah! Is that the problem?!” Kuroo suddenly realized. “Are you afraid of becoming a healer and suddenly getting famous?”_

_The way Kenma ducked his face so low that he got a double chin was enough answer. Kuroo snorted._

_“Oh, Kenma! Come on!”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“I can’t believe you!!” Kuroo laughed. “That’s like, the dumbest reason not to learn something. Even if you're just a regular mage, if you're good at it, you'll still become famous."_

_“If you don’t shut up now, I’m kicking you out of here.”_

_“Alright, alright!” Kuroo surrendered, laugh still escaping him in short huffs. “I shut up.”_

_He stood still while Kenma carefully applied the paste over his wounds. Despite how cold he could seem, Kuroo always found his touch very warm. And soft, just like his breathing, and his hair, and the shape of his lips._

_“Now let it there for a while,” Kenma said as he pulled back and Kuroo looked away._

_It was not polite to stare at your best friend’s face._

_“Thank you,” Kuroo said._

_“It’s not a problem,” Kenma said matter-of-factly, even though they both knew he wasn’t someone to go out of his way for others._

_Kuroo closed his eyes and let the aroma of the herbs fill his nose._

_When he opened them again, he was alone in the room._

_“Kenma?”_

_He stood up and looked around, but Kenma wasn’t there. He hadn’t heard him leave, and he couldn’t hear him, or his parents, outside._

_“Kenma?”_

_He went out of the room and called out again, but there was nothing else but dead silence. He started searching each room. All of them felt like no one had been in them in a long time. He started to feel nervous. Something was very wrong. He started going through doors and doors and at some point, the hallways they led him to were no longer like the ones in Kenma’s house. But he was still looking, so he kept walking, even after the wooden floors became stone, and the light of day became that of candles. He kept walking through stone corridors until he was certain that there was no way he could go back to Kenma’s house anymore. There was a noise behind him. He turned around only to see darkness, and woke up before he could find out what lurked in it._

Kuroo gasped for air when he woke up from his nightmare. He was sweating, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

He couldn’t remember all the details of what he had dreamt, but he remembered Kenma, and he remembered talking with him. He remembered laughing with him, and he remembered warmth.

But most importantly he remembered a smell. Actually, he still had it in his nose. It was frighteningly fresh, as if it was still –

Kuroo turned on his bed and realized that the smell was coming from there, and then, that it actually came from his skin, and a small clay bowl on a table near his bed.

_The mage._

The smell he remembered from his dream was suspiciously similar to the smell of the mix the mage had prepared for him. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Kenma had to be using some kind of magic on him, trying to confuse him, in a way, for some reason…

Kuroo shook his head. It didn’t matter he couldn’t understand Kenma’s motives. The mage was playing with his mind and keeping him in the dungeons would only make things worse. He would just tell Oikawa that the brat managed to escape. Keeping him there was not worth it. He would find another way of rushing Iwaizumi’s team.

When he got to the dungeons, Kenma was as awake as him.

“Get up,” Kuroo whispered. No one was up at that hour, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful. “You’re leaving.”

 

He used the same spell he had used to kidnap Kenma before. It was tiresome, but it was fast and fast was how he wanted to get rid of him.

The new landscape started appearing through the dissipating smoke. Somewhere nearby, according to Kuroo’s infallible spy, Kenma’s friends were camping.

He let go of the white mage and was ready to turn on his heel when he felt a slight pull on his sleeve.

“Wait,” Kenma said in a small voice.

Kuroo turned around, even though he knew it was a mistake. Kenma’s eyes were somehow still bright in the dark forest.

“Please, come with us,” he said, and then took a step closer. “Come with me.”

Kuroo stared at the mage, words once more failing him.

How could he ask for that?

How, after all that had happened? After all he had done to him?

But the mage’s motives were not important. The only important thing was to keep him away.

He yanked his sleeve free and started walking back.

“I’m letting you go now, but don’t think you’ll get so lucky next time,” he warned, even though he couldn’t get his voice to sound as menacing as it should.

He left then, pretending Kenma’s sad eyes weren’t still burned in his.

 

 

Kenma sighed as he saw Kuroo escape once more. Many things had happened. Too many in too short a time.

He hoped his team was close. He didn’t want to get lost in an unfamiliar forest.

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to see the trail of smoke of a dying bonfire.

“Kenmaaaaaaaa!”

They should have heard him approach, because before he could actually reach the place, Shouyou rushed through the bushes and tackled him to the ground.

Kenma’s lungs lacked enough air to answer, but he was also happy to see him.

The rest of the team appeared just moments later.

“I knew you would be fine! How did you escape? Are you hurt? What happened with that guy?? Did you meet the King? Did you see the Princess?”

“Oi! He can’t answer with such a heavy weight on him,” Kageyama said.

“I’m not heavy, Bakayama! Right, Kenma?”

“Shouyou... You are,” Kenma said with a slight smile, the sadness from seeing Kuroo walk away once more slowly fading away thanks to his friends.

Kageyama pulled Shouyou away from the back of his cape and, while they continued arguing in the background, Iwaizumi took the word.

“So what happened?” he asked. “How did you escape?”

Kenma told them what had happened, and also what he deduced from it.

“I need to go back to Nekoma. If my theory is true, then the spell I truly need is in a book at the Academy. You don’t have to come with me, but- ”

“Of course we will!” Shouyou said immediately. “We can’t split up again.”

“But what if he’s wrong?” Kageyama asked, as direct as always. “Then we would waste a lot of time for nothing.”

“Time is not really the most important problem about this”, Iwaizumi said, then addressed Kenma directly. “Do you realize what will happen if you are wrong again? What it would mean _for you_?”

Kenma took a deep breath before meeting Iwaizumi’s serious stare.

“My friend may have hid things from me in the past, but deep down he’s still my friend. The Demon King stole his memory. I’m going to get it back.”


End file.
